My Porcelain Goddess
by Catnip Banana
Summary: From the instant he saw her, he loved her. From the instant he met her, he needed her. From the instant she was taken away, he was never the same again. AU/AH


_**Okay, this is the creepiest thing I've ever written, on a pairing that I normally hate. But I worked hard on it and I like it, so Imma post it anywho. :D**_

_**WARNING: THIS ONESHOT CONTAINS SLIGHTLY OOC CHARACTERS AS WELL AS DARK AND SEXUAL THEMES. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, PLEASE LEAVE NOW.**_

_**Disclaimer: I own neither Twilight nor RealDoll.**_

It was March 16th, 2010. It had been a year since he met..**.**_her._

He had been walking down Madison Avenue with his hands in the pockets of his navy blue jeans, whistling to himself. He had been thinking about what he had for breakfast, waffles and fried chicken, some weird Southern thing Jasper made him eat. He had chuckled and shook his head. That guy really was crazy. He stopped at the crosswalk, peering at the busy street and sighing. He had turned around and glanced to his left - and then he saw her.

Time slowed down. The planets stopped moving. The sounds of pedestrians, loud music, and cars died. His entire world screeched to a halt as he gazed upon the most beautiful face he had ever seen. He had ran over and asked her name. It was Bella.

He stared at her in awe, his porcelain-colored goddess. Her heart-shaped face was crowned by a head of lush chestnut hair which fell in soft waves down to her shoulders. She had deep chocolate-brown eyes full of life and curiosity. Her soft pink lips were parted invitingly, just enough to give him a view of her lower teeth. Her cheeks tapered down into a sharply pointed chin above a graceful, slender neck. He could hardly believe that she was a doll.

"Where did you get her?" he had asked breathlessly. The man standing next to her smirked a bit, amused by the stranger's obvious attraction to his toy. "RealDoll. It's amazing what they can do with bits of silicone and plastic." the man had replied. "Could...could I..." Jacob had stuttered, too enraptured by the beautiful woman before him to finish. "...borrow her?" the man ended his sentence for him. He let out a bark of a laugh. "Well, I'm not really accustomed to loaning my toys out to random guys on the street, but hell, why not?" He had said, shrugging. "Long as you use a condom, I don't see a problem." The man had pulled out a pen and some paper, and begun scrawling on it. "You can just take her now, I guess. Call this number tomorrow morning and I'll come pick her up. Name's Edward, by the way." The man had handed Jacob the paper and wheeled the cart that Bella was on around so he could grab the handle. Jacob nodded vacantly, murmured a quiet thank-you, and took off for his apartment at top speed. Whatever his errand was, it was completely and utterly forgotten in the rush of euphoria he felt.

He made love to her that night so many times he lost count. Her on top, her on bottom, him behind her, him caressing and licking and kissing her cunt until he could practically feel her wrapping her legs around his neck and pulling him closer and writhing and gasping and screaming with ecstasy and crying his name over and over again Jacob, Jacob, Jacob, Jacob...

He woke up in the morning the happiest man in the world, with Bella in his arms. He pulled her closer and nuzzled her hair and whispered that he loved her into her ear and then he remembered.

He remembered that she was not his.

He remembered that she could never stay with him.

And he remembered that the man was coming to take her away.

It hurt him, oh it hurt him so, but he did the honourable and right thing and called the man named Edward who came to steal his Bella away from him. The man had chuckled and smirked and winked and joked and then he had walked out the door with Bella in tow. Jacob had listened to his footsteps walk away from the door, and had listened to the squeak-squeak of the cart's wheels carrying his beloved away from him. And then he had fallen down on his knees and cried.

He was a broken man after that. He never smiled. He never laughed. He went through the motions of each day mechanically, feeling like some sort of a wind-up - no. He wouldn't say the word. Because that had reminded him of her. But then, she was the only thing he thought about anyway, so there was no point.

Food turned to ash in his mouth. His previously warm and comforting bed was now a painful reminder of his night with Bella. His friends and his family had all become worried and frantic around him, desperately trying to find some way to draw him out of his depression. But it was all to no avail.

And now, one full year later, here he was.

He followed the same route he had a year ago. He wore the same clothes, and went through the same actions as he had that day. He walked down Madison Avenue with his thumbs in his pockets, whistling to himself. He stopped at the crosswalk. He peered at the traffic and sighed. He turned around and looked to his left...

_And nobody was there._

And that was why he was in his basement tonight. Because in that moment, he had realised something.

Without Bella he was empty.  
Without Bella he couldn't eat.  
Without Bella he couldn't sleep.  
Without Bella he couldn't think.  
Without Bella he could barely breathe.

And he would never see her again.

That was why he was standing here, crying silently as he stared at the grey wall in front of him. That was why he welcomed the click he heard as he cocked the gun he had pressed up to his temple. That was why he had decided that a life without Bella was no life at all.

"Goodbye, Bella." he whispered before he pulled the trigger.

_**So? Kind of creepy? Love it? Hate it? Tell me about it! Seriously people, reviews are like digital chocolate truffles.**_


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